


Adaptable

by lionessvalenti



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Childbirth, Dual Genitalia, Gen, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-15 19:28:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17534792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: Sam didn't know what to expect when he opened the door, but it was not Bucky Barnes, about to give birth.





	Adaptable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Unforgotten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforgotten/gifts).



Sam wasn't sure what he expected when he opened the door at nearly nine o'clock at night during the rainstorm. He maybe didn't even expect anything, though lately, knocks at his door meant trouble more often than not.

It was trouble, all right. But he certainly hadn't expected Bucky Barnes to show up on his doorstep. 

"I need your help," Bucky said by way of greeting.

Sam's first question was going to be if Bucky was here to kill him, and that was already answered. He took a step back. "Then come on in."

Bucky nodded and walked into the house. Water dripped from his long hair and his clothes were soaked through. He pulled off his wet coat, revealing an equally wet shirt, and a huge, very obviously pregnant stomach.

"Whoa," Sam muttered. He was staring, and while he knew it was rude, he was unable to properly look away. There was something so deeply unnatural about it. Not just a pregnant man, but a pregnant _Bucky_. Sam had seen this man kill without giving it a second thought. Nothing about that exactly said maternal.

"Do you have food?" Bucky asked. He was also staring, though he didn't seem to have much by the way of other expressions besides wide-eyed disinterest.

Sam tore his gaze from Bucky's stomach. "Right, yeah. Come on."

They moved into the kitchen and Sam handed him a dish towel for his hair. Or whatever Bucky wanted to do with it while Sam put together a sandwich.

"I should call Steve."

Bucky's ability to move quickly and silently while being heavily pregnant was pretty impressive. He had a hand around Sam's wrist before Sam really had a chance to think about what he'd just said.

"No," Bucky said. "If I wanted him, I would have gone to him."

"Why didn't you? He's your friend. You don't know me."

"I don't know him either," Bucky said, and Sam was honestly glad Steve _wasn't_ there. He'd get that look on his face, the one where Sam suddenly wouldn't know what to say to him.

"Then why did you come to me?" Sam asked. "If you don't know Steve, you don't know me."

Bucky released him. "I know you'll take care of things. I need a quiet place to give birth and move on."

"And what am I supposed to do after that? Tell Steve someone dropped a baby on my doorstep and don't mind the placenta all over my living room, Bucky definitely wasn't here?"

"You're a smart guy, you'll think of something." Bucky reached down and picked up the sandwich. Sam was going to put some mustard on it, but Bucky didn't seem to mind dry bread and deli turkey by itself, tearing into it like he hadn't eaten in days.

Bucky was still dripping water onto the floor, but when Sam glanced down to catch another glimpse of the stomach, he noticed pink mixed into the puddle on the laminate. 

"Exactly how close are you to giving birth here?" Sam asked. The words coming out of his mouth were hardly normal, but he'd been living in a heightened state of reality since he met Steve. This was strange, but Sam was adaptable.

"The contractions are about five minutes apart," Bucky mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Bucky didn't reply. He just kept tearing into the sandwich. When was the last time he'd eaten? Should Sam make him another one? He remembered something, vaguely, from after his own mother had given birth to his younger sister, about not eating during labor.

"Should you be eating? Aren't you supposed to not eat?" Sam asked.

Bucky swallowed. "That's only if there's a chance for a c-section and you need to go under. That's not an option here. If something goes wrong, I'll be dead. Or the baby will."

A strange realization washed over Sam. "You've done this before."

Bucky shrugged. "You don't make a male asset able to get pregnant and only do it once. Is there a better place we can do this?"

Sam hadn't exactly prepared for anything remotely like this, but he nodded. "Back here." He took Bucky to the guest room, which at least had clean sheets, though they probably weren't going to be clean for long. 

He shifted into tactical mode. He began to take a mental inventory of what could possibly be useful from around his house: plastic drop cloths he kept meaning to take back to the hardware store after they went unused, rubbing alcohol to sterilize, and vodka if he ran out of that, plastic disposable gloves, towels, and blankets. He'd need some blankets.

In the guest room, Bucky began stripping out of his wet clothes. His stomach looked even more foreign without his shirt on, rippled with purple stretch marks. He kicked off his boots and peeled away his soaked pants, then stood there naked without any sort of shame or unease.

"Here." Sam turned toward the dresser, which was filled with a mishmash of left behind clothes from visitors. He found an oversized white t-shirt from when his uncle had stayed and handed it to Bucky. He probably wasn't coming back for it anyway.

"Thanks," Bucky mumbled, and pulled the shirt on. It still stretched across his stomach and didn't really cover anything important, but at least he wasn't completely naked anymore.

"Get comfortable. I'm going to get some supplies," Sam said. With his mental list in mind, he gathered up the items, including some garbage bags, a pair of scissors, and bottles of water. He grabbed his phone and resisted the urge to call Steve anyway. He was pretty sure, labor or not, if Bucky wanted to kill him, he would. Instead, Sam searched for some how-to tips on home births. He was pretty sure he could bullshit through the actual birth, but there were a hundred other factors, and if he could get a handle on a dozen of them, they might stand a chance.

He came back to the guest room to find Bucky stretched on the bed, with his hands folded over his giant stomach and grimacing in pain.

"Well," Sam said loudly, announcing his presence back in the room, "this isn't how I wanted to get to know each other."

"It was a lot simpler when I was shooting at you," Bucky replied, his eyes still scrunched up. A few seconds passed, and his entire body relaxed. He opened his eyes and looked up at Sam. "I don't know how dilated I am."

Sam swallowed as he dropped his stuff near the foot of the bed. He could look up and see mostly Bucky's dick, and some fluid and blood on the top sheet, but Bucky wasn't exactly holding his legs open.

"I gotta ask: is this baby going to come out of your ass?"

Bucky snorted a laugh. "No. It's more fucked up than that." Slowly, he pulled his knees up and opened his thighs. It took Sam a second to see it, almost hidden behind Bucky's balls, but there was definitely a vagina there.

"And they did this to you," Sam said flatly. He was already reaching for the gloves. He'd read about dilation and how open Bucky would need to be, but he wasn't sure if he could recognize that from touch. At least be able to feel if there was a baby coming out of him.

"Yeah. Genetic testing. Semen samples weren't enough after so long." Bucky's metal hand clenched into a fist atop his stomach. 

Sam had pulled one glove, but stopped as Bucky spoke. "Shit. How many kids do you have?"

"This will be the sixth I've given birth to. On the other end... could be thousands." His eyes were closed, and there was something flat in his tone. He wasn't the most expressive guy in general, but this was different.

"What happened to them? The other five, I mean."

Bucky shrugged. "I don't know. They were taken away before I could even see them."

"Shit," Sam said again. There wasn't anything else to say.

"Yeah."

"What are you going to do with this one?"

Bucky opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally settling on, "I don't know. I can't take it with me." He took a deep breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "Can you... check? See how close we are?"

Sam looked down at his gloved hands. "Right. Yeah." He knelt down so he wasn't quite face first in Bucky's junk, but he could press a couple fingers inside him. Sam wasn't a stranger to the vagina, but he'd never inspected one so clinically before. However, he could still tell the cervix was opening. 

There was going to be a baby tonight.

Sam had never actually witnessed childbirth before. His knowledge was from the movies, which made it seem painful, but generally straightforward. However, the further they got, the more he learned that childbirth was messy. While the fluid and blood was mostly concentrated to one area, there was _a lot_ of it.

He was glad for the drop cloths.

But when Sam saw the baby's head crowning, he actually felt a hitch in his chest. As bizarre as this entire situation was from top to bottom, this was life, and it was happening right in front of him.

"Bucky, I'm gonna need..." Sam trailed off as he looked over Bucky's knees, and saw that he was pale and pretty zoned out. "Hey -- Bucky! Bucky!"

There wasn't any response, though Bucky was clearly breathing. He hadn't lost that much blood, Sam didn't think, so it had to be more of a mental collapse. There was no way of telling how traumatic the previous five births had been.

"Bucky!" Sam bit his lip, and then tried, "Soldier!"

That got Bucky's attention, snapping his eyes up to Sam with a flash of something -- fear, maybe -- before he seemed to realize where he was. "Yeah?"

"I'm going to need another big push, okay?"

Bucky nodded and braced the heels of his hands, both flesh and metal alike, into his his knees, He took a couple of deep breaths and pushed.

It took three more pushes before the baby was out and in Sam's arms, tiny and crying, and slippery as hell. Sam held onto it for a few seconds before he figured out what to do next. He leaned forward and carefully placed the baby on Bucky's chest.

"It's a boy," Sam said.

Wide-eyed, Bucky stared down at the baby before placing a gentle hand at the back of his head. "He's so small." He looked up at Sam. "Thank you."

Sam nodded. He cut the umbilical cord and dealt with the afterbirth, as per the instructions from the internet. He kept an eye on Bucky, who seemed preoccupied with staring down at the baby in his arms. 

"I don't have anything for a baby," Sam said once he'd finished cleaning up. "I'm going to make supply run. Diapers, clothes, the basics. Walmart should still be open. Will you be okay here?"

"Yeah," Bucky said faintly. He hadn't moved much since Sam had given him the baby, though he had pulled one of the towels over the both of them.

"You're not going to run out on me, are you?"

Bucky was quiet, moving his thumb gently over the baby's shoulder. After a few more seconds, he cleared his throat. "I'm going to need to sleep."

"That's probably a good idea."

"I need to..." Bucky's face crumpled slightly as he continued to gaze down at the infant. "I need to make a plan. I have to find the rest of them."

Sam didn't feel quite so great about that, but he at least felt like when he came back, Bucky would still be there, and so would the baby. Finding the rest of Bucky's children (did he just mean the five he'd given birth to, or the potential thousands?) was a thought he could put on the back burner until they at least had clothes and food.

He left Bucky and went to wash his hands and change his clothes. He needed a shower, but that was going to take too much time. Did newborn babies need to be fed right away? Did Bucky have milk? It was probably better to get the staples now and ask questions later.

It wasn't until Sam was driving that the surreal acceptance of the last four hours seemed to wash away and the oh-my-god-what-the-fuck aspect kicked in. Did he just deliver a _baby_ in his house? From a dude who was pregnant? The same dude he'd spent the last eight months searching for?

He grabbed his phone and hit speed dial. Whatever reason Bucky wanted to exclude him be damned. Sam was in way over his head.

"Steve? Sorry to wake you up, but you're going to have to believe me when I tell you what happened tonight."


End file.
